The New Elders
by AbominableDante
Summary: The fourth part of the threepiece Farfarello arc. Sequel to 'Dandelions'.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes: **Righto, here it is, the long awaited fourth part of the three part arc! My New Year's present to you. I'll be expecting gifts in return, you know…

Makes a lot of sense, ne?

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**Disclaimers: **Since They still haven't put WK on ebay, I don't got it. Even if they did, I still kind of have to go to bleeding college…tuition ain't cheap.

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**Warnings:** Same as the last three times. You don't know it, go back and read them. Otherwise, if you can't figure out what the M is for, then you shouldn't be reading this anyway.

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**1**

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/You're quiet/

/Haven't said anything for hours, are you all right?/

/Farfarello?/

I turned over and pretended I was asleep, my ears alert for the storm coming.

I only heard him sigh and the sheets shuffle as he turned on his side and pressed his back against mine to sleep.

* * *

Something deep within me was screaming, its voice ragged from the length of its airless cry, never stopping, like a terrifying wind. My eyes were constantly on the verge or tearing and I had no idea how I'd managed to crawl out of bed and into my clothes.

We had to leave. We had to get Nagi and get out of there…

We were neither armed nor healthy, as good as walking dead, as good as little Nagi's life in that horrible place.

In other words, no good at all…

Schuldig's hand on my shoulder startled me and I turned to glare at him, silently demanding to know what he wanted. His face was so open, pale. I could see new wrinkles around his eyes and the corners of his mouth are turned down naturally with despair. They never used to do that.

He kneeled beside me when I got back to pulling on my shoes (also stolen).

/We can't go back. We'd be dead in a second. Nagi's young and strong, he can survive in there, he has before. He knows their tricks better than any of us, I'm sure. We, you and me, have to get out of here, regroup, make a better attack/

I shook my head and his hand off my shoulder. Slowly, I got to my feet and moved around the room, searching through some of the still sleeping students' stuff for anything we might've needed. I took a bag and a change of socks for each of us, food and as much money as I could get. I took a couple of coats and threw one at Schuldig, then made for the door before anyone could wake up and stop us. We are out on the Paris streets a moment later, the quiet of the early morning around us, thick as the smell of baking bread pouring from a nearby bakery. My mouth watered. I didn't remember food.

No, no…I needed to think, gather some information, then get in contact with Nox. Schuldig was right, we couldn't go back on our own. We needed backup, we needed to get out of the country and hide.

Did the Elders ever fight their own fights, after all? No, and neither shall we. That was Crawford's mistake. The Elders seemed immortal and unbeatable because they themselves never went out of fight, sent their little toys instead. If they had gone themselves, as they had the day they died, the way we went at Esset, they were just as easy to kill as anyone else.

We needed to rethink this, and because our leader was dead, there was only us left, me and Schuldig…and Nagi if we ever got him back.

Schuldig was begging me to talk to him now, them to let him into my mind because I had blocked him. He wasn't letting me think. I turned on him sharply, eye furious enough to silence him. I handed him some money and ordered him to get some goddamn food while I thought about our next move.

I asked a passing Frenchman the date and time and quickly calculated how long we'd been in the faculty.

From July to September…Three months…We'd been gone three months! What happened to our movement against Esset? Had we lost, had we won? Had we reached a stalemate? I needed to know what was going on, immediately, and went in search for a public telephone.

I shoved coins in and dialed Japan, Nox's personal line, surprised that I'd remembered it at all and quietly begging the mouthpiece for him to answer.

Three rings, four rings, and the line picked up, a soft male voice greeting me, English purr welcome enough to make me cry, right there in public, "Hello?"

"Nox!" I whispered with a rush of thankful air, "It's Farfarello."

"I thought you were dead! How are you, where are you? Is the team there? What's going on?"

"I don't know if there is much time. Schwartz was captured by Esset. Schuldig and I got out, but Brad and Nagi are still in the faculty. We're in Paris, but we need to get out of here as soon as we can. Can you send for us?"

"I'll get Dementia on it right away and have you two on a plane here as soon as we can manage."

"Make sure it doesn't compromise your position."

"Not to worry, Esset couldn't come at us even if they knew. We've got them on a run."

"That's the best news I've heard in a long time…"

"Are you on a pay phone?"

"Yes."

"Righto, so go to the nearest airport and call me there. We can get you onto a plane from there and call you back. Make sure it is as away from the open as possible. You aren't armed, are you?"

"We will be soon."

"Godspeed, then."

I hung up, my heart sagging with relief. I knew I could trust him, he'd said our safe word. I knew he was telling the truth about Esset from the pride in his voice. I actually smiled when Schuldig came along, a heavy bag of bread and sausages in his arm.

"You called Nox?"

I nodded and dug around for the bread, ripped off a piece and shoved it in my mouth, motioning for him to follow me.

"We're going to the closest airport, and he's sending a plane there. We're going back to Japan."

"And you know he's safe, how?"

"'Godspeed'."

I heard him sigh and smiled at him.

"Thank God…we'll be okay then?"

"We need to worry about Nagi now," I said softly as we walked, ignoring all the sights other tourists would be clicking cameras at. Paris was far from romantic for us. "We're the new Elders now..."

* * *

We were on the plane now and the silent screaming in my chest was growing with every mile that took us away from Nagi. It was night, black outside the window, and neither Schuldig nor I could sleep in the tiny private plane. The stewardess was doing her very best, but we couldn't get comfortable. We were too restless and I was feeling claustrophobic in the smaller than usual cabin.

Schuldig was resting against my side, his arms curled around on of mine as I stared out the window into the dark. His face was pressed into my shoulder and I couldn't tell if he was crying, though I felt him shivering. He seemed to always be shivering since we'd left the faculty not a day ago. It didn't matter, not yet. What mattered was getting the hell away as fast as we could.

I felt Schuldig's mind slip into mine, very shyly, and pictures flashed behind my eyes without his willing it.

Their questioning escalating to violence, then threats of murder. Staring into a mirror as she shaved off his beautiful hair, one long stripe of pink in the mass of orange, one after another until the orange was gone. Forced over a table, trying to fight but unable to as they raped him, laughing.

I shuttered and shut my eye, pulling him close. I pressed my nose against his head, into the soft, greasy stubble.

"I'm sorry, Schuldig…that I didn't come sooner…"

"You came, that is enough. You're taking me away from there and that is enough…"

A moment of quiet, the two of us drawn close for warmth and solace, mourning so many things now dead.

"You remember when you tried to link us, just us especially?"

"Yes."

"It's okay now. Please, do it if you are up to it."

Schuldig pulled away and looked at me, eyes curious and wide, then his lips coming up in a smile. My heart fluttered at the smile, happy that he could even manage it now and doubly so when I felt a tendril of thought wind around mine, strong as steel and twice as permanent. It was simple, so easy, painless and quick and he was there, a constant presence in my head.

/It may help your episodes, make them less frequent or violent,/ he said.

_I doubt it. If it doesn't, the both of us are going to need to tied down._

A mental laugh and he leaned into my arms again, finally relaxing, finally falling asleep. I knew without looking because I could feel it. I could feel everything, even the twinge of sharp pain where someone had cut his leg.

For the first time in my life, I felt pain. It is a far greater gift than anything anyone else could give me, and I loved him for it.

Of course, by now and a long time before now, I loved him, not just for the pain…for him…

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_Fin Chapter 1_

_Please Review_

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**Author's Notes: **What could be that inner screaming? Is Brad really dead? Can Farfarello pick the lint out from between his toes with his tongue?

None of these questions will be answered in the next chapter (and hopefully the one about lint will remain a secret longer than that anyway), but read it! Why?

Because we know you love crazy Irishmen. That guy, Steven from Braveheart? You loved him just as you love your Farfarello…

Laters.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes: **Since consistency isn't my thing, we all know that Farfarello's hair went from brown back to blonde again without any real reason. Why?

I forgot.

Anyway. The main reason for the long wait between posts was because Fanfiction.evil's emailing system wasn't working for me, so I had no idea why I wasn't getting at least a couple reviews. It was so depressing. Then I got off my ass and checked for myself, or went in to fix my system, and viola! There was not one review, but three! Thank you, loves. I do hope you keep enjoying this…extended story…

Did I edit this? Can't remember…

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**2**

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The stewardess was kind enough to wake us after landing, surprised that we both had slept through both minor turbulence and a slightly bouncy landing. Even so, we were refreshed and said we didn't mind as we helped ourselves out of the plane and onto the concrete floor of the garage.

Nox and Dementia were there, the both of them dearly welcome sights. When Nox held his hand out for me to shake, I pulled him into a bone-crushing hug, so swelled I was with relief. Schuldig, remarkably, followed suit, but with far less enthusiasm. A moment of exchanging pleasantries, bowing politely to Dementia (she was dressed like a Japanese elevator girl in a red uniform, her black hair pin straight and arraigned like ikebana under her cap) and we climbed into the car.

Schuldig and I sat hip to hip on the leather seat of the limousine, both of our eyes flashing around in paranoia even now. Nox and Dementia sat across from us, some definite space between the two of them, just enough for the pleasantries of coworkers, but close enough to be seen as friends. Dementia lit a cigarette and offered her pack to us. Schuldig grabbed the pack and quickly lit up. Watching him take that first breath of smoke was almost pure sex…

I took a cigarette myself, in need of something for my fingers to do.

"So Crawford-san and Nagi-kun are in Paris," Dementia murmured around a mouthful of smoke.

"Brad's dead," Schuldig snapped unnecessarily. The car fell silent. Nox's fingers stopped tapping his kneecap.

"What?"

"It isn't possible you didn't hear me."

"Dead?" Nox asked, looking to me for confirmation.

"That's what the man said," Dementia answered, "Let them alone. Can't you see they've been through a lot already? We should get back to base and the two of them to a doctor before any more questions…"

"No!" I objected instantly, "We have to get Nagi! Every moment we spend not trying to find him is another chance he's dead…or worse…"

"We've been working on it since you called," said Nox, "All we know is that he was moved out of Paris after your escape, but to where we can't say. We're looking, but going out blindly is suicide. Even for the boy, we cannot waste precious recourses when the balance is so tenuously tipped to our side."

Nox sighed before continuing, pressed his fingers into the bridge of his nose, "You four have done well, taken out many important Esset satellites and managed to turn things our way, get us some decent troops, but now you have to rest…grieve…"

I grit my teeth, but said nothing. Nox was right. We were tired from working, from surviving. Even now, Schuldig had begun dozing against my side. I knew he was exhausted by more than anything physical…

Nox could see it too…saw the way I leaned slightly toward him, protectively, to shush him quietly if he seemed to be coming to…

"Get Schu to a doctor first. Anything wrong with me can wait another day. I'm not fragile, but I know parts of him are and those are the parts they attacked first," I whispered over Schuldig's head. Nox just nodded.

Dementia took Schuldig's burnt-down cigarette out from between his lips and finished it herself, her skin rippling in one sick moment, then taking Schuldig's form, right down to the stubbly hair. Nox growled something foul at her and she changed back to her Japanese elevator girl costume, her eyes apologetic at me.

* * *

It seemed that the headquarters was the same traditional-style house that Schwartz had handed over to Nox months ago. Certainly there were a few dozen more people and much more noise, but the small room Schuldig and I had slept in had been cleared for us.

Schuldig was gone then, taken away to see the in-house doctor and I was left alone to bed down and get some more sleep. I couldn't get comfortable, though, the room was too open and I wasn't used to sleeping by myself anymore.

'Must be how a widower feels,' I mused darkly, then forced myself to stop. I didn't need that too, thoughts of Schuldig's death. As long as I could put it off, I wanted to continue thinking of him, Nagi, even Crawford as immortal…

I was very seriously in denial and that suited me fine. I didn't want to be around when I snapped…

I dragged the futon into the same cedarwood closet I had hid in before and tucked the thick covers around my shoulders, though the fall was thick with humidity and heat. I was sweating and shivering and the screaming was coming back, climbing up my throat…

I shoved my face into a pillow and forced myself to swallow it back down.

'Not now, not now, I don't need this now. I can't do this now…they need me, Schuldig needs me, I can't let myself fall apart because I got scared …'

"But you are scared; you're fucking terrified," Tink whispered sweetly into my ear, "And for once Crawdaddy and little Schuschu aren't going to come and save you. Not like you could help yourself, though…you used them as a crutch so long, Ruth too, you don't know what to do by yourself and that frightens you…"

"Go away, Tink," I moaned as quietly as I could, clutching the sheets over my head.

"You don't think your faithful leader is dead, though, do you? You think he's still somewhere in that building, getting tortured like you and your boytoy. By the way, I loathe Schu's haircut even more than the other one…"

I sighed and lay down on my side, pressing my ear into the pillow and cupping my hand over the other one. I had to get some sleep…

Had to…

Had to…

* * *

No one had come to tell me anything about Schuldig. No one had come to tell me he was dead or alive, getting better or worse, falling slowly apart as I was…The poor shivering wreck…

I missed him, but whenever I asked for him, they told me to go back to my room and not to interfere. I was sick with worry; gray with worry…my face was literally turning the color of wet recycled paper…

The screaming was getting closer with every moment I thought about how goddamn lonely I was. I once tried to find Schuldig's mental link, but couldn't and gave up.

I ran my hand over my face, feeling the scars there, wondering what I would do after this. Could I get surgery to fix these scars, a fake eye? Could I go out in public and not catch attention?

Could I follow childhood dreams, join the church if I fancied to?

Could I write a novel or paint neo-Dada portraits of Schuldig's dick? Could we go find a place on the sea, any sea, just Schu and me, and live out our days doing nothing but running the little nightclub we have for tourists three months out of the year? Could we sleep in hammocks and drink drinks with those stupid umbrellas and laugh, like normal people?

My hand found my throat, clutched at it when my stomach roiled against me.

I staggered to my feet and slid the door to the hall open, eye roving for anyone I could speak to…or at least the bathroom. Felt like I was going to vomit if I kept this down much longer…

Nox was talking to a young woman dressed like a nurse. He saw me advancing and held up a finger to me so he could finish up with the woman. A moment later and she was walking off, pleasant as sunshine in a white fucking dress…

Nox's face was stern when he turned to me, but not unfriendly. I leaned against the wall, my knees shaking for no good reason, but at least I didn't have to half choke myself to keep from being sick anymore…

"Thought I told you to stay in bed…"

_Where's Schuldig?!_ I demanded as loudly as I could think, so even _he_ could get it. He cringed and slammed his hands up over his ears, cursing.

"Shit, Farfarello! I can _hear_ you! And he's resting, so leave him alone. What else do you want?" he seethed.

"I'm hungry…I think..." I said, much softer now.

"You think…"

"Something mild and some water…and an aspirin…and I can find Schuldig's room myself, thanks…"

"Oh no you don't," Nox countered as I turned away, his hand was heavy on my shoulder and I nearly stumbled, "You're ill and he's bad off himself."

"Bad off?" I asked, my eye demanding answers, right now, before I ripped his skin off for them. He caught the threat in my thoughts and hurried me down the hall to the small kitchen and forced me to sit down and drink a cup of lukewarm tea. It was disgusting, but settled my stomach and helped my shoulders relax.

"Think you could handle some rice and milk?" Nox asked as he poured a cup or two into a cooker on the counter and closed the lid to boil. I pulled a face. Hadn't had straight milk in years…disgusting stuff…It just never appealed to me, drinking something that came out a cow's tits… "Then I'll make more tea…"

"You said Schu was 'bad off'," I reminded him. He sighed.

"Got a one-track mind, do you?"

"Please don't make me beat it out of you, I'm tired…"

"Okay, okay…" Nox finally muttered, filling a kettle of water and setting it on the stove, "He was under a lot of physical and mental stress in the faculty, correct? Well, because his body started falling ill, his mind was loosing some of its control on input thoughts. You with me so far?"

"Get on with it."

"Right, once he linked with you, he got some of his mental control back, managed to lock down entirely, even from you if you've noticed…"

"I noticed," I said flatly. The kettle whistled and Nox took a moment to remove it and pour the water into a proper pot, then dropped a tablespoon of tea leaves in and set it on the table by my hand.

"Even so, he's developed a fever from an especially cold environment; you know that kind of torture is popular still, right? Well, we think he's got a bit of pneumonia. It isn't really bad yet, but he needs his rest. His mind is totally fucked from it, but because he got a lockdown early on, he hasn't completely lost himself. Even so, you can't see him. He might try to link with you and loose himself in whatever mess you've got tucked into all that gray matter if yours."

A moment for me to mull over it, I drank my tea, my hand shaking still.

"Ah…But you've thought he might try to link if I hadn't seen him in a while?"

"We've thought of that, yes, but the chances are better he doesn't act rashly if you're absent from the scene. If he asks for you, we'll send you, but as it is, it's best you two are briefly apart. I know you don't like it, he doesn't either when he's lucid enough to understand..."

"For the best, Big brother says. It's very Orwellian," I mused, swirling my pinky in my drink. Nox's face twisted briefly, annoyance flashing in his eyes for one second, and then was gone. "Do make sure to tell me as soon as he does ask for me."

"Don't expect it to be very soon. He is extremely unwell."

"Don't even pretend you can tell the future, Nox," I snapped, "Now where's my goddamn rice?"

He sighed at me, opened his mouth to retort, then thought better of it and got up to get my food. He angrily scooped spoonful after spoonful into a bowl until it was full, then dropped both bowl and chopsticks in front of me.

"Thank you," I said pleasantly and started eating.

He watched me quietly, chin in his hand, thinking...whatever it was he thought to himself.

"Do you think there could've ever been anything between us?" he finally asked. I choked on my mouthful of rice and it was several minutes until I could reply.

"What?"

"You know…like what you and Schu have? We were once very good friends, remember?"

"Never happen," I said softly, pushing more food in my mouth, "Not to mention, I never knew you were interested."

"Well, why couldn't it?"

I looked up at him, smiling. "You're too damn British. Surely you've noticed our natural dislike of one another…"

He laughed and helped himself to some of my rice, "You're right."

"Not to mention, Dementia would kill me in a second if I even thought it. She's possessive like that."

"Yes, I don't really understand that…"

I waved my chopsticks at him, "It's a crazy thing, you wouldn't understand. Normal people just don't have that kind of wiring, but we weirdos have a terrible habit of clinging to someone who would actually tell us the time of day. Those are so rare, after all. Why else do you think I've put up with Schu's bullshit all these years?"

"Why?"

"Because he puts up with me."

Nox chewed on the ends of his chopsticks.

"Man, you two are fucked up…"

I laughed.

"That's life."

* * *

I slipped into the bathwater slowly, toes first, then a foot, shin, thigh, groin to hips, then the other leg. I sat down on the underwater bench, the water came up to my shoulders, so I slouched and dipped my mouth under the water and blew bubbles. I hadn't taken a bath in a Japanese bathtub in years and forgotten how nice it felt. It was rather like a hot tub without the bubbles because I could stay in as long as I pleased and the water would never get cold.

As it was, I wasn't taking this bath because I wanted to, I was taking it because Nox had threatened me under penalty of a sound beating if I didn't get in, as he said, 'That bleeding puddle'. He claimed that this would calm me down; because I had complained that his tea was too weak for it. Actually, it was rather poor tea, but it wasn't to blame for my sick stomach and the shakes that took my hands if I sat quiet too long. It was all me, all in my head and we both knew it, but he would've thought himself presumptuous in Schuldig's usual place if he pointed that out to me.

He was right too, it would be presumptuous, and I would've kicked him in the knickers for trying. Even so, he wouldn't let me alone and silently demanded he stay with me to keep from drawing attention to myself while Schuldig was ill. As much as I understood the problem, though, I couldn't help missing him every second I was awake.

So I drowsed, my arms slung over the side of the wide, deep tub and my feet spread out along the floor beneath me, my head tilted back along my scarred shoulders. I was kind of nice, just taking a moment to relax, to individually address each of my muscles and tell them to loosen up, and to silence my mind to the best of my ability with a meditation trick I'd picked up from Crawford.

For one fleeting second my stomach tightened, my heart raced and my lungs heaved a sharp, painful breath, but I was calm and watched the second and thought pass as easily as everything else, just like the man had taught me. Calm, complacent, observant but not participating…

Someone's hands were soaping my hair. I couldn't quite recall who, but their fingers were hardly as sure as Schuldig's were. His or her nails were clipped short, though, so I didn't mind, letting my head rest in those wide, shallow palms. I figured It was probably Nox, trying to both keep an eye on me and not seem quite so much like a stalker, and while he was kind of obvious about his peeking, I didn't mind. The tips of his fingers scrubbed down to the long hair at my neck before he asked me to sit up so he could rinse my hair. I did so and held my breath.

A moment or two later he was finished, but marveling at my hair, quiet, but I could sense some resonating mental appreciation. I'd never known I was that sensitive to mental projections, however minute, but I figured it came with living close to Schu…

"It's getting quite long," I finally said. There was a moment of quiet surprise, then a laugh.

It was getting long. My hair was nearly to my shoulders now, spilling over my ears and bangs longer than my nose. Pale blonde as any Saxon or Aryan god, but what good were gods? I laughed softly to myself, wondering if I should come to terms with _my_ god, the one I had never truly sent from my heart. Nowadays I felt I better understood Him than any number of priests, excepting the pope, who'd been through hell himself.

But I had no use for popes or the general hierarchy of the Catholic church, not anymore. It made no sense, though I knew that men indeed were not equal, that some were simply better and others simply less. It was up to that person to determine his or her own fate, not God's or mine or anyone else's, as it wasn't Ruth who had determined my path.

Ah, that was enough theological revelations for the day…I was trying to enjoy a bath.

"Should I send for someone to trim it?" Nox offered. I shook my head and pushed my hair out of my face.

"Leave it. It doesn't bother me. When it does I can cut it myself."

"I'm glad you've stopped bleaching the hell out of it, though. Looks better this way, like you aren't the livin' dead."

I laughed and reached out for his neck, crossing my eye to the tip of my nose.

"Brrrraaainnnsssss!"

We both snickered.

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_Fin Chapter 2_

_Please Review_

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**Author's Notes:** So, is Nox really gay, or is he just in love with the ideals Farfarello seems to stand for for him?

No, Nox really isn't gay, but perhaps he was looking for a deeper relationship?

This is all assuming Dementia wouldn't kill them both first…

In other news, I just finished watching Carrie (at night, from Midnight to two in the morning, smart, Poco…). I'm kind of terrified my mother's going to storm my room with a rifle or something. And it's a damn shame, too, because I really don't have Nagi's powers, though I would love them.

Right, so I'm too scared to sleep, so I'm writing. I think after than I'm gonna hunt down a copy of some other horror flick…or maybe just Monty Python…

Though I'd like to watch The Ring again. Then I won't sleep for a week.

No, no…I don't. It's the head cold talking. Just review, loves, eh?

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**To My Readers: **

**fullmetalguitar**Well, hello, new person, and welcome! I'm glad you're enjoying this arc and I'm really glad you told me so! Answer to the review question is that people are lazy. I know, I read a good fic and debate if I want to take the ten minutes it takes to write a thoughtful review or not. Then again, I have dial up, so I believe my reason's valid.

Wait, did you way your read all of this in one day?

**Morbid Knight**Craving Farie luffs? How convenient that I just happen to write about Farfie luffs…among other things, of course.

I have a few sites you should check out, if you're interested.

Anyway, good to hear from you again.

**StarTrekObsessed**Um…thank you…I think…Get well soon, ok?


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Notes: **Because I can't sleep and because I have work tomorrow, I have very little to do without looking and feeling totally useless. Really, lying in bed, waiting to go to sleep, is boring at hell. So, I write.

We'll see how well this goes, since I'm pretty much flailing around in the dark by now.

Oh, plot, dear plot, why have you abandoned me?

(cries)

Shit…that is so not good for my face…

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**3**

* * *

Even though I was still not allowed to see Schuldig, Dementia was making sure to give me regular reports on his health. I had asked Dementia to do so for me because I simply didn't think I could trust Nox to tell me when Schuldig called for me. Dementia only complied because, the other live-in operatives I'd met assumed, she was currently in a nicer mentality.

I think it was because I gave her pocky.

At the moment she was giving me a noontime report with my lunch. I had been sitting out on the porch outside my room to watch the rain, and she remained even after she was finished talking. She still wore the Japanese elevator girl's face, but had wrapped herself in a far better suiting pink kimono with some kind of sunflower design. She had even put a sunflower in her bun. It was nice, this saner personality. The last one had been a bit…disgruntled.

"You are staring at me," Dementia said softly as she made herself comfortable on a pillow next to mine. I shrugged and turned slightly away, reaching for a dumpling with my chopsticks.

"You look nice today; certainly I'm not the only one who appreciates it," I replied softly, my voice barely carrying over the sound of the rain slapping on the stone walkway. When I looked up at her again, she was smiling.

"Thank you. You look refreshed yourself," she said, regarding a combed, shaved and pressed me, decked out in a blue yukata while my clothes were being washed…or burned…didn't matter, really. I smiled.

"Why, thank you. I feel mightily refreshed."

"Did you sleep, then?"

"Heavens no! Sleep is for weaklings. I've been sucking down coffee like some kind of addict…"

Dementia cracked a very small smile as she poured herself a cup of tea.

"You are an addict," she pointed out. I shrugged, rather amused with myself anyway.

"Keen of you to notice."

Dementia drank her tea and watched me eat for a few silent moments. When I set my chopsticks aside and turned back to watching the yard, I felt her hand touch my sleeve. My eye snapped to her hand, then to her face.

"You need to see him," Dementia whispered, her chin tucked into his chest so I could barely see her eyes. She knew she was disobeying Nox's orders simply suggesting that…so why…?

"You need to see him or you'll drive yourself crazy wondering. I know. You and I are not so unalike. I can take you, if you promise me this; that you do not talk to him and that you do not touch him. If you can promise that, I will show you, but…"

"I swear," I breathed back, barely believing my luck. Dementia finally looked up at me, a smile brightening her face for one fleeting second. She smoothly got to her feet and stood by to wait for me to follow suit. I was awkward in the long robe, but managed without complaint. Dementia's kimono was much tighter than my yukata, so it would've been rude.

With short, quick steps, she led me around the outside of the house and slid open a seemingly random porch door. Inside I could hear a soft beeping sound, so familiar and yet so distant. I peered inside, my eye falling on the languid pulse of a green-screened heart monitor. Slowly I followed the white cords that slithered away from it to inside the folds of a soft white yukata. Inside the robe and several quilts was Schuldig, so thin and sallow I thought for a moment he was a corpse. The heart monitor was what kept me from falling straight into panic.

Slowly, quietly, my feet moved across the tatami mats to the side of the futon. I sank to my feet and almost reached out to touch him, but stopped myself. Dementia's hand was on my shoulder, a calming, strong force to remind me of my promise. I clenched my fingers in the folds of my robe; bit my lip so hard it nearly bled. Dementia knelt beside me, her mouth to my ear.

"The antibiotics we have him on make him drowsy. We had used another at first, but he disagreed with it, so we had to switch. He is sleeping off the drugs now."

"He's allergic to penicillin," I whispered back. Dementia's smile was sharp as glass.

"So we discovered. It wasn't in his health report."

"It was developmental. Only the team knew."

"We figured as much. Come, it is time to go."

I almost began to protest, but her eyes were stern and I was in no mood for a fight over this. I'd seen Schuldig, made sure he was alive and recovering, and I would have to be happy with that.

But…

I didn't like the rattle of his breath through his chest, the way it sounded forced and fragile, like broken china plates being shaken in a sack. I didn't like the tubes dripping nutrients into his arms and life's breath through a mask on his straight nose and thin mouth. I missed the look of his eyes, every time I looked at the red-brown lashes that lay on his protruding cheeks. The slight bit of chest exposed in the cloth was stuck with bones. I couldn't recall ever seeing him so thin.

Dementia's hand firm on my shoulder, I was led out of the room and back to the porch. I stood and stared at the shallow pool the porch overlooked, choked with lilies when she turned away to shut the door behind us.

"You need a drink of tea," she said when she returned.

I didn't move. I was watching the rain splash off the surface of the water and I couldn't move.

"Farfarello? I said let's go have some more tea…"

My nose felt clogged, my face hot. Slowly the world went blurry before I could force myself to blink. Something wet and warm slid down my cheek.

"Farfarello?"

I turned away and started back to my room, ignoring Dementia's calls for my attention. I had no further use of her. I knew what I needed to know.

* * *

Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew this was all a dream. I always knew that, held that kind of thought close to me every time I fell asleep, simply to differentiate between my waking and sleeping hours. Even while I was drinking enough coffee to supply half the household, I had to sleep sometime. I could feel my body protesting from it with audibly creaking joints and slow reaction time. My reflexes were shot, but it didn't stop me from being generally jumpy to sounds and light.

I knew it was a dream; my hands splayed out before me in darkness so thick it was palpable, so black my sense of touch was nothing more than imagination. I was running, swimming, floating away, trying to escape some kind of horrible predator and looking for my salvation somewhere in that blackness. I knew it was in a chest, locked away. I knew I had a key to open it, and a map to find it, but with the darkness I couldn't read the map. I was flailing.

I knew it was a dream, but I could feel the monster catch hold of the hem of my trousers, sink long, sharp needle teeth into the meat of my shin. The pain was a memory, something felt through Schuldig's link, but it was pain all the same.

I knew it was a dream, but the monster and the darkness were slowly, painfully devouring me, even as my hands scrabbled for the chest. I was wailing, crying, even as I felt my hands boil away to nothing in the acid dark. When I looked, I could see the stumps of my forearms, bubbled, yellow and bleeding, the skin rotted and smoking.

"No!" I screamed myself awake. I didn't take the time to readjust to real life, but shot out of bed and into the night-swamped garden outside my bedroom door. It was still raining and by the time I ran head first into the back fence, I was soaked. I bounced off the fence and fell on my arse in the mud, trying to fight my nightmares off with my imagined stump-hands.

"Who's there?" A voice and a light came out of the darkness. Footsteps and the click of a pulled hammer of a pistol… "Who's there?"

"Don't shoot," I called quickly. The light shone in my face for a second, then left. I could just barely make out the figure that held it; whoever it was kept bowing.

"I'm sorry, Farfarello-san!" the person called, "Please, pardon me!"

I slowly, shakily got to my feet and pushed my hair out of my face. I found that I was unpleasantly soaked to the core. I was freezing.

"Which way is it back to the house?" I asked. The guard led me back, still quietly apologizing, and left me in the Nox's hands. It seemed the man had actually been sleeping, that I'd woken up half the household, but Nox had sent them back to bed when he found out it was just me and not an intruder. He was frowning as he looked me over, then he told me to undress while he found some other clothes.

I didn't feel like cracking a joke about his wanting me to get naked…Didn't seem appropriate.

A few moments later, Nox came back with another blue yukata and a towel. I was shivering, and gratefully got dressed as soon as he handed the clothing to me. I used the towel as a blanket instead of drying my dripping hair.

"What the hell was that, Farfarello?" he finally asked, quiet but annoyed. I didn't feel like answering him and turned to the kitchen to brew myself a pot of coffee. I didn't want to go back to sleep, ever again, even if it killed me. Those nightmares of mine were too damn scary…

Nox's hand on my shoulder stopped me, and I seethed at him for daring to touch me. He was unaffected, and guided me to a sitting room. I fought him every step, but it seemed he had some kind of hold of my motor controls. Even though I couldn't move my legs of my own will, I had at least made it difficult for him.

"You don't need anymore coffee," Nox said sternly.

"Stop telling me what I do and do not need, Nox, I'm a grown man," I growled.

"What you need to do is get these nightmares under control, pull yourself together…"

"Are you incapable of understanding English? I just said-"

"I heard you, Farfarello," Nox snapped back, "Now shut up and listen to me. You're unstable, far more unstable than you were when you first arrived. You need to-"

I shoved his hand off my shoulder and his grasp off of my mind, pouring murderous thoughts into every effort. I stood so I could look down my nose at him, a position of some power.

"No. I don't need to do a damn thing. Not for you or anyone else. I'd done my part, and now it's time you did some things for me," I said, my voice rising with every syllable until I was shouting loud enough to make my ears ring, "Let me be with Schuldig. Get your ass on finding Nagi and finding Crawford's body. And fucking kill Esset! You've had three months to do it, you pathetic bastard, wait any longer and they'll be biting back! And get me some goddamn coffee."

For a moment, Nox was shocked silent, then his face grew grim. His eyes flickered with malice.

"Ah, I forgot. You've got a temper…of course, with the codename they gave you, it makes sense. Nearly frothing and not in the least sensible…

"I will not let you near Schuldig, nor allow you to comment on how I deal with Esset, nor will I get you a cup of coffee. What I will do is put you back on your medications and set you up with a straight jacket until you can control yourself. And if you even think about trying to kill me, you'd best not act on it. I'm the only one working to ensure Schuldig's mind is mostly intact when he comes to. Kill me and you'll have one very comatose lover."

I grit my teeth, my fingers clenched. I found myself acting not of my own will again, but this time it had nothing to do with Nox's power and everything to do with my fury, fear and frustration. Biceps coiled, elbows pulled back and fists balled and the next thing I knew I was throwing punches faster than I'd thought possible. My first right hook hit Nox square on the underside of his jaw and he was flying head over heels onto the matted floor. My next missed, but then I was on him in a second, hitting and hitting, cursing and ripping at his hair. I wanted to kill him.

I wanted to kill the whole damn world…

About then Nox pulled the switch in my head and I collapsed. I was far from unconscious, just my mind felt like it was suddenly disconnected from my limbs. I opened my mouth, but Nox's foot was pressing my jaw back into my head. He looked angrier than I'd ever seen him. For one very fleeting moment I thought he was actually going to kill me for this.

What a blessing _that_ would've been…

A few of the other operatives who hadn't yet gone back to sleep were in the doorway. Nox clapped his hands once and pointed at me, snapping quiet, angry orders at them:

"Get him up and in some restraints. Tie him to the wall if you have to; just make sure he can't move. And you; track down some anti-psychotics. I want him as unintelligible as it gets. Move!"

I was hoisted from the floor and carried back to my room. Apparently they had a couple straight jackets in reserve, or perhaps they were leftovers from when Schwartz had last stayed here, but either way I was soon strapped tightly in. They tied my legs and slipped a bite mask onto my face. I was propped against the wall, but Nox didn't bother giving me control over my limbs again.

I wished he would. My nose was itching like a mother…

* * *

Some time later Dementia appeared. I was probably sleeping when she'd arrived, but to me it was just the same as magic that she'd popped seemingly out of nowhere. The elevator girl's mask was gone, and something more homely, but still comfortably pretty resting in its place. Swaths of wispy, mouse brown hair lined her face, and her face and clothes were dirty, as if she'd been mucking out the pond. Her nose looked a little Scottish.

Her eyes were a startling green. Her smile, though chapped, was sweetly comforting. She'd sent my current guard away and make sure the door was shut and locked before looking again at me.

"Do you promise not to bite if I take off your mask?" she asked, her voice lilting in a surprisingly childish tone. It was kind of creepy, really…

I nodded and waited for her to find the buckles buried in my hair and slid them open. Soon as the leather and steel came off my face, I was working my jaw, twisting my head around to crack my neck…

I still couldn't move my damn limbs…not even a finger. It pissed me right off that I could be controlled like that. Schuldig had the ability, yes, but he rarely, if ever abused it. He knew I would've killed him soon as he'd let me go again. I was thinking of killing Nox soon as I got control back…somewhere out of his range…with a rifle…

I was good with rifles…Crawford had made sure of it, seeing as I seconded as a backup shot if we doubted a hit would go down easily…

Brad…Oh God…Brad…

Dementia pressed the rim of a bowl to my lips and I reflexively drank. Then she held up a baby blue pill, about the size of her pinky fingernail.

"Your drugs, my good sir…" she laughed. I shook my head. "You won't play nice with me? I'm so sad!"

"Can you just give me a minute, girl? Christ, I just woke up…"

She shrugged. It made no difference to her whether or not I was being crazy. Sure, I probably entertained her more if I was trying to kill her partner, but I doubted she really approved.

She smiled and flipped the pill from hand to hand, waiting for me.

"Is that your real face?" I asked softly.

"Silly, you know I don't have a real face."

"Everyone has a real face. You don't think I was born ugly like this, do you?" I laughed. She turned to me, frowning.

"You aren't ugly, just different."

"People still stare."

A moment's pause, and she spoke again, her voice so soft I almost didn't hear it.

"They'd stare even if you weren't scarred…"

I snorted. "Give me the bloody pill."

She dropped the blue ball into my open mouth and watched as I swallowed it dry, then offered me some more water from the bowl.

"Do you take after your mother?" she asked when I was done drinking. I shrugged as best I could.

"It doesn't matter. The family's dead. No point in suggesting I have my grandfather's ears and my mother's lips and my father's fucked up brain disease."

"Bitter much?" she asked snarkily. I bared my teeth at her.

"Why? Aren't you? Or was your childhood fucking picture perfect? God, what a blessing that I am in the presence of someone who's even remotely normal!"

Whatever smile was left on her face was gone in an instant. Her lips were ugly now, flat as a pencil. Her eyes sparkled with annoyance.

"You don't need to be mean, Farfarello. You know well enough we've all got a past."

"Then don't be so fucking flippant with mine! At least you're not in the straight jacket and at least Nox isn't in a fucking coma!"

She sighed and shook her head at me. I nearly spat in her face for the look she gave me.

"You're right. I'm sorry…"

She got to her feet, the motion smooth but abrupt.

"I'll leave you alone now. The meds should kick in in about fifteen minutes. Good night, Farfarello…"

She left the mask off, but it didn't matter. I was barely lucid enough not to drool on myself. There was no need to worry about me biting anything for the next six hours or so.

* * *

The medications had worn off hours ago. I couldn't sleep. I was too hung over to sleep. I was busy trying to scrabble around in my mind and reconnect my head and limbs, seeing as Nox wasn't going to. I had to at least get my arms fixed. I could get out of a straight jacket if I had my arms.

It was very much like a Kung Fu movie…like Kill Bill…

Now there was a funny movie…

I looked at my bare feet, barely holding back a snigger.

"Wiggle your big toe…Wiggle your big toe…" I got to three repetitions before I started laughing.

"Lack of originality, but you pulled off the face perfectly," Tink said pleasantly. I smirked.

"Think you could fix my head for me?" I asked.

"Of course not. I don't exist…"

"And yet you never cease to appear at the most inconvenient moments…You're useless, go away."

"You know, Nox is right. You're in here for a good reason. I mean, you nearly killed the man. You saw the blood! What would you do if you got to Schuldig? You'd try to bring him to, you'd touch him and he'd get lost in you. You get lost in you, and he's sick. He couldn't handle it."

I hung my head and sighed.

"I just want to watch him…I don't feel he's safe unless I'm there…I…I have…I have to protect _someone_…"

"You'd still kick Nox's ass."

"I'd like to rip his nose off and shove it down his throat," I snorted.

"See? That's what I'm talking about."

"Oh, for God's sake, Tink! Stop being the voice of reason! I liked you better when you were just a tormentor…"

She looked up at me, her face solemn, her little bottle-green eyes sadder than I'd ever seen them.

"You don't mean that…"

"I will if you don't help me," I growled, "At least look, please?"

She sighed and lighted on my shoulder to peek into my ear. She hummed and hawed a moment, then sat down on my shoulder.

"It's pretty tightly locked down. Nox's will is holding you. He hasn't forgotten, that you can tell right off. If he had you could break it easily. The way it is now, you'd have to have a stronger will than Nox. I know you've got a lot to be angry about…you're always angry, but you don't know his signature as well as you would Schuldig's. You'd better just wait until he lets you go, or else you could break some important wiring."

"Preaching to the choir, Tink. I asked if you could fix it."

"No. I can't. It's up to you."

I sighed. Well then…

"Wiggle. Your. Big. Toe."

* * *

Another dose of blue pill, another drink of water. They weren't feeding me, but it didn't much matter when I was laid out on the drugs. Nox visited once, but I was unintelligible. I had tried to grasp his pant leg, but I couldn't move.

"Schu-la-dig…" I whispered, begged. He didn't even look at me.

I couldn't remember being so lonely. Even in the hospital it was never so bad. It was like knowing one's friends were home, but not being able to visit them because of your broken leg, and they were all too busy to bring your flowers. It was that kind of horrible loneliness, the kind that make you physically sick, that kind that made you feel worthless and the kind that made you cry whenever someone looked at you.

I felt ugly. I felt used and ruined, like all of this was my fault.

One day I couldn't stop crying. Another I kept forgetting why I felt so bad. Another I finally noticed I'd begun to stink. The humid fall heat lay sticky on my skin like an unwanted lover.

One day I was convinced I was raping some poor nun. The moment I woke from that daydream, I screamed, I was so horrified at my own mind…

Dementia rushed in, kimono sleeves trailing behind her like wings. She knelt beside me and held my head to her chest, shushing me.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Oh, dear God, I'm sorry, please no, I didn't mean to! Pleasepleaseplease…I'm such a demon, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was born and ruined everything, I'm sorry, please forgive me…ohgodohgodohgodohgod…"

"Farfarello! Farfarello it's okay! Nothing's wrong. You didn't do anything! It was just a dream! Please…please, listen to me! Farfarello!"

* * *

I woke and found myself able to move my legs and fingers. My eyes were puffy and dry, sore as if I'd been crying, and my nose was crusted with snot, but I could move.

First thing I did was dislocate my shoulder and slipped my arm free of the jacket. I popped it back into place and finished freeing myself, then shakily tried to get to my feet.

I couldn't stand. All those meals missed had totally depleted me. I could barely move at all. I dug my fingers into the matting and pulled myself to the porch door, then outside in the direction of Schuldig's room.

I had to get to him. I needed him…I needed to breathe the same air he breathed, just to make sure he was still alive.

If Nox caught me, he could drag me back to my room without so much as a curse from my lips. I was too weak to fight him anymore.

What seemed like hours later, I reached the right door and slid it open. Six faces turned to face me, three Japanese, three Caucasian. One had red stubbly hair and glowing blue eyes…his face was so pale he looked like a ghost.

"Jei?" Schuldig whispered, making as if to get out of bed. One of the Japanese men, I supposed he was the doctor, stopped him. The other two Japanese men moved toward me and picked me up. They carried me into the room and sat me down on the bed next to Schuldig.

"Farfarello? How did you-?" Nox began, but Schuldig gave him a sharp look.

"You are no longer needed," Schuldig snapped, voice strong. The moment he dismissed Nox, he turned to me and leaned toward my face, pressed his palms against my cheeks.

"You're thin…Have you eaten?"

"Forgot," I murmured through my dry throat, feigning a smile.

"Doctor, if you would send for some soup, please?"

"Hai."

I watched Schuldig's face, trying to decide if it was another hallucination or real. I reached out to touch his face, his nose, his neck, his hair…

"They said you were lost," I said softly, "I couldn't see you or you'd be gone forever…"

"Your head's an interesting place. I can't imagine I'd like being lost anywhere better," Schuldig purred, laying down beside me and pulling me against his chest. I pushed a dry chuckle through my chest, my cracked lips curling slightly in reply.

"I missed you."

"I could tell…Never thought I'd see the day you wanted to see me bad enough you'd crawl to me. It's really quite flattering…"

"You'd never do the same," I finished for him. He laughed, full throated, beautiful.

"Maybe I would. You never know…"

I smiled. Somehow, I was okay with that little bit of romance. Somehow that thought didn't sicken me at its weakness.

Really, it had been strength that had taken me to Schuldig's room, the will to see him enough to make my unruly limbs follow orders at last.

I slipped an arm over his waist and shut my eye.

"Course I'd have to be a good reason for me to," Schuldig muttered, more like himself.

I smiled against his shirt.

"You never know," I chuckled.

"Yeah."

"Can we get back to work now?" I asked, "Get this army of ours in order?"

"Rescue Nagi and honor Crawford's memory, you mean?"

"And destroy Esset for good?"

"Soon as you eat your soup we can."

"Okay," I sighed, "Oh yeah…and Tink was being a bitch to me again."

Tink glared at me from the nightstand and stuck her tongue out. "Tattle."

* * *

**Author's Notes**: My longest chapter so far. I had been hoping to make it longer, but I also wanted to stop it soon (Got work tomorrow, so I need to sleep).

Big news, sorta! I chopped off my hair!

Okay, that isn't big to you guys, but it is to me. I did it myself. It looked pretty good but for my bangs. I cut them too short and now I look like a page boy. Ah well, it's cool. Hair grows.

I'm just happy it isn't another mullet. My God! Was that haircut ever a mistake!

Okay, now pertaining to the fic…I have more or less scrounged up a plot. I have a nice (okay, not at all nice, in fact it's really kind of awful) twist later. I want to incorporate it into the fic, and I'm still trying to figure out how. Surely, I will keep posting regularly, I'm just warning you guys in case the chapters get bad. I'm kind of working on it…it's just hard…

That's right, writing is hard! Like philosophy is hard…like getting one's ideals torn asunder with a single sentence. And loving it every moment…

It's that kind of wonderful…

See y'all later.

* * *

**To My Readers: **

(Because Poco is exhausted and wants to sleep, Farfarello-san shall be answering reviews. She will be back next chapter.)

**StarTrekObsessed**It's fine…just please don't ever tell me again. (twitch). And yes, yes, poor everyone. Oh, how their lives must suck!

It's only going to get better.

**fullmetalguitar**I was indeed asking if you'd read all three parts of the arc in one day. That's impressive. And you don't have to review each chapter… ;;

I'm forcing Farfarello through madness-es faster for the sake of plot. I need him sane enough to narrate, after all.

If they say Brad's dead, well, in the story thus far, he's 'bout equal to it. If he's living somewhere else but is not involved in the story, well, that should count as dead, ne?

Although your denial amuses me…

**TheInflictedFinger****: 1. **Yeah, the alert system is messed up on this stupid site.

Nagi? Sane? What on earth are you talking about?

**2. **You like them because they are interesting and useful characters? That's why I like them, at least. Nox, not so much, but Dementia is one I have fun with. She is the ultimate PMS lady…Emotional to a T.

I love Tink. Also useful.

'Fraid this isn't going to last forever, though…God I hope not…

**StarTrekObsessed: **Kirk-esque moments? I'm afraid I don't know what those are, seeing as I'm not much a sci-fi follower. Z friend of mine, Zoe would know, though…I should ask her about it…

Personally, though, I feel that killing off Crawford was kind of a lazy action fanfiction author's take. Either they dislike the man (much as I did when I was first presented to him via anime) or they can't handle his personality well enough not to make it seem like total bunk. Sometimes, it's good, helps the plot to do so, but it's still kind of dumb. Crawford is an awesome character in his own right. I should write something just for him someday…Hmm…

Laugh away, everyone is. The great irony would be me actually finishing this in four parts and not five or six.

What I was planning was, well…not telling…

Even if they are terrors, Jack Russells are sweet dogs. My neighbor has one. Nice little thing, she is…


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Notes: **I was a bit iffy about posting this. Typically, the histories of Schu are traumatizing and terrible, that and his name is often Christian. Why Christian? Anyway, I decided to take a different route, since all my research revealed was…well, very little.

Even so, I'm half-expecting to get some kind of horrible review for my troubles.

Also, as a warning, the rest of this story is going to be moving really fast for the sake of convenience.

Zoe and Scotty are talking at me, so my train of thought is now quite dead. Sorry, I know I had something else to say, but I need to go beat the crap out of them.

Zoe is whispering, "Ex-tra flo-naze" in the Escaflowne theme song…Die Zoe.

* * *

**4**

* * *

The winter had come and stayed. Schuldig had recovered in a matter of weeks, my own mental health following close behind. Seems he was right, that my dysfunction could be more or less controlled when he had a watch on it. Since he's become well again, I haven't had any other problems but for some mild forgetfulness. 

Brushing my teeth was never a favorite habit. I can't help it if it makes my gums bleed, I've hated it since boyhood. Only reason I bother now that I'm getting old (well, I _feel_ old) is because Schuldig won't come near me if I haven't.

"Because you eat all that cabbage and onion shit! Your breath can get pretty ripe, you know," Schuldig growled as he nursed his coffee mug. I shrugged and flipped his pancakes over. Once I'm finished with his, I've got to cook for the rest of the house…Ugh.

"You're not a bed of roses yourself, sweetheart," I snorted as I dumped his food onto a plate and handed it to an enlisted helper to put out on the table. The boy, well, teenager, looked between us, eyes wide with slight discomfort. One would think he's never seen homosexuals before…

Of course he has…he was in Esset, of course. In desperate times and close quarters, boys do some pretty dumb shit they wouldn't do in other conditions…sex and drugs are popular with suicide a close follower.

"Stop thinking depressing shit. It's too early for it."

"Too early to listen to you whining," I snapped back and handed the boy a plate piled high with pancakes, "Here, boy, take that out to the dining room, then come back. We've got six more plates to fill before we can eat too."

The boy nodded and left. Schuldig dumped syrup onto his pancakes while I spooned batter onto the pan. "And no running off, Schu. I'll need you later."

His ears seemed to perk, and his eyes peeked out from behind his freshly grown curls, blue and hopeful. I half thought to hand him a bone and pat his head from that look.

"Oh really, now?" he purred, "Whatever for?"

"I'm not cleaning this kitchen by myself, Schu."

His shoulders seemed to sag, just a little, and he poked at his food.

"Not what you were hoping?" I asked as I flipped the frying dough.

"Certainly not."

* * *

It was February. Even in Japan it was the coldest month of the year. I was unhappy to see the snow coming. It would cover all the gravel around the house, mute noises, make it easier to sneak up on the house. 

Maybe I was just being paranoid…again…

It never hurt to be, though, and I was out every hour salting the area close around the house. The hem of my kimono was soaked, my hair littered with white flakes, my face red with the bitter cold. I hated it, every minute of it. I hated snow.

Nagi didn't, though. He and Schuldig would go out and build snowmen when we had the house, have snowball fights, and come in totally wet and frozen. I always ended up making them cocoa, though I always said I wouldn't, and we always curled up on the living room floor in front of the TV to warm up again.

Schuldig's arms slid over my shoulders from behind and he pressed his mouth against my ear. His chest was warm on my back, his breath gusting by my face in a white cloud.

"No unhappy thoughts or you can't fly," he whispered, "We'll find them. It's why Nox and Dementia's away…"

He was right. I'd sent them out to find information about the boy and our leader soon as I was well enough to give orders. Strangely, Nox had listened…

Apparently, we were still the head of this whole renegade anti-enterprise. Even though our most stable and our most capable team mates weren't present, Schwartz was still in control of what we'd started almost a year ago.

Schuldig's lips curled into a smile and he pressed them against my chilly ear.

"Empowering thought, isn't it, Far? We crazies in power…Man, what a mind fuck."

"That is hardly a mind fuck…more of a mind blow…" I murmured as I spread some more salt. Schuldig snorted and let me go, cold air now pressing against my back. I turned to face him, tucked into layer after layer of blue silk, the folds of his kimono draped over his shoulders as carelessly as he could manage without freezing to death. I could see the bone-white skin of his collarbone flashing out from under the cloth as he turned to me, folding his arms over his chest.

"What?" Schuldig muttered, eyeing me. I sniffed and turned away, trying to ignore my suddenly dry mouth.

I could almost taste his smirk.

"I've lost feeling in my fingers…let's go get some tea," I said, dumping the bag of salt onto the porch and climbing up after it, kicking off my shoes and socks and lifting the soaked hem of my robes. Whenever my ankles touched the icy cloth, I shivered…

I really couldn't feel my hands…

Schuldig followed, smirking like the Mastermind I knew. I was comforting to see him creep out the other operatives as we passed them for our shared room. No one questioned us, asked us where we were going or offered us help. It was nice.

I slipped into our room and Schuldig shut the door behind us. It was dark and very cold, the only light was the pale sunlight filtering through the rice-paper walls. I had trouble matching colors for a fresh outfit and was holding them up to my eye so I could see better when Schuldig took hold of my hands. His fingers were so warm I wondered if he'd left them in the house while he was outside. He looked up at me with such an expression I almost expected him to lick his lips in some kind of cat-triumph.

"I can warm you up," he purred, leaning close to me, his nose inches from mine. His kimono shifted off his shoulder, red freckles sprayed like paint on his milky skin. I refused to gulp, to give him that fresh tidbit of satisfaction, but I wanted to…

That he could do that to me now, turn me back into a teenager after all these years…Once upon a time a look from him was enough to send me straight to his bed…

It wasn't much different now…

He leaned in, pressed his mouth to mine, his arms curling around my neck to make sure I didn't pull away, to disperse any thoughts of running away. Even now I had them…Sometimes…

"You're such a controlling prick," I growled against his mouth and he laughed.

"Why do you think they call me 'Mastermind?'" he replied, "Of course, you have your share of moments…like now…"

/You're so beautiful/

"Don't be ridiculous, Schu," I laughed, "There isn't one good feature about me."

His hands were inside my kimono now, opening the obi and pulling the silk off, layer by heavy layer. I shivered in the cold air and watched him undress too…

He was so thin and pale he almost glowed…Like some kind of god…

/You're beautiful to me and that's all that matters,/ was the replying thought. I sighed and crawled under the futon to escape the cold, my redhead close behind to lie against me.

_How cliché…_

/Lack of better words, my love,/ And now he was getting melodramatic… "You steal my thoughts away like shells into the grip of the sea!"

"Save your breath," I said with a smirk, "I believe you'll need it."

"Oh, ho?"

* * *

Schuldig's hands were always something to see, with long, tapered fingers and thin wrists, they were almost feminine in their beauty. If only he'd stop cracking his knuckles, they'd shrink and look less like a colt's legs…Even through threat of old age arthritis, he'd always cracked his knuckles… 

"They're my father's hands," Schuldig sighed, picking up on my thoughts and holding his hand out to look at it, "They're all I remember of him, really…and the music…Always the music…"

I cocked my head. Schuldig had never spoken of his family. I had always through it rude to ask, seeing as he'd never volunteered anything. Perhaps this was the time, at last to know…

He looked at me and smiled, "I know you're curious…"

"Of course I am," I said with a smile, rolling onto my stomach and propping myself up on my elbows, "Would it be all right to ask?"

"I'm surprised you didn't ask sooner…Go ahead."

I smiled wider and ran my fingers over his shoulder, down his arm, lifting his hand to my face again.

"Your parents? Who were they? Where were they from? Why did they let you go?" I asked, my words barely loud enough to hear, like a prayer…

Schuldig smiled, but something broken flickered in his eyes…something terribly sad made the gold in his eyes flicker.

"My father was a composer, a concert pianist, though only locally renown. He's the one who picked my name, after his favorite maestro…" A laugh, a sigh. "Johann…what an awful name, how common, how crude…" He laughed again and continued, "My mother was a singer who had married my father after seeing him during a concert. She had the most beautiful hair…It was so red it looked like phoenix fire…She died…when I was very young. Killed by some drunk driver while crossing the street home from the conservatory…"

Schuldig paused, something deep inside of him welling with pain. I could feel it, see it. I pressed my hand to his chest in silent comfort and didn't urge him to go on. I didn't ask him to stop either…

"My father tried his best to raise me, but making ends meet was hard then. Berlin was not a friendly place to intellectuals and musicians while the Russians were there, before the wall came down…He had to work two jobs, started teaching music to whatever students were left at the conservatory.

"When I hit puberty, my power showed up, just a little at a time, just quiet voices from time to time. Then they got louder, wouldn't go away and I couldn't get any peace. My father thought I was crazy, and as bad off as we were, how stretched his nerves were, I guess I understand why he sent me to an asylum. Even so…

"I never saw him after that. I was quickly picked up by Esset. Last I'd heard he had committed suicide a week before the wall was torn down. Another week and he could've gone back to composing…poor dumb bastard…"

I was frowning now, wishing I had something to say, wishing I wouldn't sound like an idiot if I apologized for asking…

Schuldig silenced my unsaid thoughts by pulling me into an embrace and burying his face in my hair. A long sigh that sounded a little shaky and he spoke again.

"Haven't told anyone that before…Didn't seem real until just now…"

"I'm-"

"Don't be sorry, just hold me a while?"

I smiled. "I can do that…Johann."

Schuldig grumbled, "Never, ever call me that again…or I'll…dump ice down your shirt when you aren't looking."

I smiled.

* * *

Sharpened knives were what I preferred to use on my hair. I was somehow more proficient with knives than scissors, and I didn't trust anyone with sharp things near my head. I had to be protective of my last eye, after all, since I was more a sight than scent hound. 

Hank after hank of pale blonde hair came off in my hand under the blade, what was left was cut two inches from my scalp. I let the hair fall into the sink so I could scoop it out later without having to bend over. When I was finished, I ran a hand over my hair, turned left and right to make sure it was even, and smiled, pleased. It looked fine, a little like a stylized asylum shave…

It was already standing up on its own.

I mixed a bowl of bleach and scooped the stinking white cream into my hair. I smoothed my hair against my head like a gentleman from the twenties and smirked at Schuldig. He'd been watching, commenting about how he didn't want me to cut my hair, knowing he was being useless. I didn't mind. I liked having a witness.

I'm sure he was there to make sure I didn't slit my wrists or anything stupid like that.

"There's some for you, if you miss the blonde so much," I offered, holding the bowl of bleach out and laughing. His nose twitched and he turned away to pat his too-short bangs into some kind of presentable look. It didn't work. His hair was messy no matter how much oil or water he put on it. I think his combing it made it worse.

I never knew it was so curly. It was hilarious. He reminded me of a poodle.

He glared at me and I snorted. I checked to see if my hair was back to normal and bent my head into the sink to wash the bleach out. When I looked up, I saw the flash of silver-white that was my hair. It was better. I liked it like this. I didn't feel so much like Jei anymore.

Jei was weak. He wasn't needed as of now. Farfarello still had work to do. I could be Jei some other day.

Now to do my eyebrows…

"Make sure the carpet matches the drape, would you, love?" Schuldig muttered as he left.

"Only when you do, cupcake," I snapped back.

"Oh, but they do." A smile. A hand at his zipper already. "Wanna see?"

"I know," I growled and painted the burning stuff onto my eyebrows. This was the first time I felt more than tingling…Ouch. "I'd rather you not be in the hallway if you're going to drop your trousers. No need for anyone else to see you flashing your thing around. That's mine."

"Oh? I don't think you're name's on it," was Schuldig's smart-ass reply. I raised one eyebrow and looked at him. I knew how to make tattoos…

"I can remedy that."

Schuldig smirked and put his hands up in surrender.

"Thanks, but no thanks."

"One day," I smirked, "One day I'm going to have my name tattooed on you…somewhere."

"Oh, branding. How possessive…Are you going to eat my fling's hearts as well?"

"Hearts? No, I'll save that for you. I want their livers for sweetbreads."

We laughed.

* * *

I've no clothes of my own. All I can find are those damn kimonos. They aren't terrible, really kind of comfortable, just hard to move in if I want to get somewhere quickly. And nowadays I seem to be running everywhere. 

Nox is keeping us updated. He's found Nagi's whereabouts. Just yesterday he sent a team in to get him and to destroy the headquarters. I haven't heard from him for a few hours, and both Schuldig and I are horribly worried. We were so tense we started fighting, so I left to make myself some tea and hover over the telephone.

It rang just as the kettle whistled. I shut off the stove and ran for the phone.

"Nox?!"

"We have Prodigy. Target terminated. The boy will be on the plan there soon as we have a doctor look at him."

"How is he?!" I couldn't seem to speak lower than a scream.

"He's undernourished, and a little beat up, but nothing else physical. His mind, though, I don't know. Mastermind will have to look at him. I can't seem to get through his shields. Some of the best I've seen. Did Mastermind train him?"

"Yeah…When can we expect him?"

"I will call you soon as we put him on the plane. I have to go now."

"Yes…Godspeed, Nox…"

"Godspeed…"

Click. I hung up and ran to Schuldig, forgetting the tea.

Schu was already in the hallway, looking for me, tears in his eyes. He reached for my shoulders and smiled at me.

"They found him?" he asked even as he picked my mind. I fed him the conversation and he smiled wider. "I'll look at him the moment he gets here…We should go to the airport and get him ourselves."

"Yes," I agreed, my hands lifting his from my shoulders and squeezing them. I couldn't seem to stop smiling.

I couldn't seem to stop thanking God.

* * *

Nox was right, the boy was thinner than I'd ever seen him. I wondered how he stood without help. His arms hanging at his sides from his tee shirt were slender enough for my to wrap my fingers around and snap in two. He smiled at me when he saw me, and fell into Schuldig's and my arms. 

"It's okay, Nagi," I sighed into his dirty hair, matted so badly it would have to be cut.

"I didn't tell them anything. They tried…they tried to break my shields, but I didn't let them," Nagi said in Japanese, his voice broken with relief against my chest. Schuldig lifted his hair off his forehead and examined a patched cut there, his eyes boring deep into his mind.

"Let me in?" Schuldig asked softly. Nagi nodded and shut his eyes. I knew he was dropping his mental shields as he sighed. A moment later and Schuldig opened his eyes again. "Thank you. You're fine up there. We don't have to take you home with a bag over your head now." He smiled.

Nagi smiled softly too and let Schuldig wrap an arm over his shoulders and lead him to the car. I was smiling, my hands in my newly-found jeans pockets as I walked with them. The black car was waiting for us.

Once we were settled in the plush seats of the car, Nagi's short fingers were at my hair, his mouth open slightly as he looked at me.

"You're hair's normal…" he said.

I smiled and nodded. Schuldig was already smoking a cigarette and made a nasty face at me.

"And it looks awful. I told him not to, but he never listens to me," our redhead sneered nastily.

"I listen, I just choose not to obey," I replied calmly.

* * *

_Fin Chapter 5_

_Please Review_

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Because Scotty keeps reminding me, I have to do some shameless self-advertising. Let's see if fanfiction dot evil even let's be post this: 

Please visit the site of Scotty and my comic's website. The homepage should be on the profile and if it isn't, it will be soon. SO! Go look on my bio, click the link and it should work.

That is all.

* * *

**To My Readers: **

**Rori Barton: **Yeah, Fanfiction's being evil. Thankfully, not anymore. I'm glad you liked it, though personally I thought it was a bit deep in sap. It was interesting to write, I kept laughing like an idiot.

Yes! We gets points! (celebrates)

**TheInflictedFinger: **Are readers _allowed _to drop-kick original characters? (laughs) Don't' be mean, though, Nox can't help himself…and he's useful…somehow.

Thank you

**StarTrekObsessed: **LONG review…wow!

I'm not glad I cut my hair. It looks awful now. My friends won't stop laughing at it. I did that once, cut my own hair as a kid. It was in fourth grade history class, in class, no mirror. It was hilarious. The mullet was another infamous hair mistake, on the part of my ex-hairdresser. It's also something my friends still laugh at.

Odd? She's a hallucination…so…wouldn't Farfarello be to odd one? I'm glad it made you laugh.

I'm still trying to cut off belief in Jesus…actually, I'm trying to get rid of the Catholic infestation I've got…(shutters). Even so, I'm the one who answers Catholic questions from all of my atheist and protestant friends…and one of them is Quaker, not sure what that is…

Buffy reference…I never watched Buffy and thankfully never will. The Star Trek references are kind of going over my head too. You'd have to talk to my father for that one.

I didn't read Wreaththu for the ideas. I read it for the sex. Wish it was something more, well, intellectual, but that's what Nietzsche is for, I suppose.

Dishes? Man, I'm not even allowed to so much as touch the dishes in my house. My mother's…quirky like that…

Yeah, we'll go with quirky.

**Rahima: **Hey, fan mail, reviews, I'm happy for either. Good to hear you like my story! Thank you.

**Caethes: **If you eventually get to this point and find your name. Thank you for the review! I am flattered that I've impressed you so much.

**Fullmetalguitar: **I get a lot of sleepy reviews. I find that amusing. Good to hear form you again.

I liked how he ignored Nox too, it was fun and very Schu-like. After all Nox put through Farfarello through and then to have Schu nod him out of the room was wonderful. I'm glad you liked it.

Ironic? Yes and no. Farfarello is very slowly starting to accept God, if not the church. He probably won't ever go back to the church (who would?), but perhaps bring back some distant belief in God? Not to say he had managed to ignore Him completely, considering his life's work to somehow destroy Him, at least in some minute references. That, and Farfarello has a tendency to blame God for the bad things in his life that he can't pin on Ruth.

YES! Someone liked my Kill Bill references! (dances) You've made my day.

Let's see how long you can hold onto that denial. If and when your world comes crashing on your head, do tell me. I'm interested in personal tragedies…grew up on Greek plays, after all.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Notes: **See bottom.

* * *

**5**

* * *

It was weeks before Nagi was fattened enough to make me happy. As much food as I fed him, it was desperately hard for him to gain weight. Schuldig just watched him, jealousy in his eyes.

"Wish I had his kind of metabolism. Mine slowed down years ago…" Was Schuldig's common muttering. I usually silenced him with a kiss and an 'I think you look fine' comment. Just like a woman, sometimes…it was amusing.

* * *

Nox returned a week after Nagi arrived, news of Esset's slow self-collapse on his lips. It was interesting, seeing something that had terrorized and trained million of talents simply fall apart; torn apart by the force of its trainees' greed for leadership. We barely had to touch it and the house of cards collapsed.

It was odd, really, anti-climatic in the worst way. I'd wanted to watch it burn, every faculty reduced to ashes and wreckage. In the end, none of Schwartz was directly involved in the subsequent murder of the last dregs of Esset loyalists. The entire time we'd remained in the house in Japan, issuing instructions from the safety of the wood and rice-paper walls, wrapped in layers of warm silk against the winter chill.

My birthday passed with the presentation of the very last member's head on a platter, sent with best regards from Dementia, who had done the honors. It was touching, to have such a thing of Valentine's day, and I asked for someone to have it put in formaldehyde for posterity. It was sitting on a table by my bedside the next day, a wide red ribbon around the seal to pretty it up.

Schuldig wouldn't go in my room when it was there, so I had to put it in the closet. Disappointing.

* * *

By Nagi's birthday, the last business of Esset was complete. Every loose end was double knotted and every bridge was in cinders.

We'd found Crawford's hand in a jar in the last headquarters in Austria. The rest of him was still missing, but the coroner's report was that the cut was made after he was dead. We three took it silently, solemnly, and mourned quietly for a while before letting it pass.

Swartz, now without leader, was disbanded. Nagi applied to a college in America while Schu and I moved into a townhouse along one of the canals in Amsterdam. Even months later, both of us kept looking over our shoulders, unable to cope with the idea that there was really no one out to get us. Occasionally we came across someone we'd freed, or ex-operatives would visit us, but for the most part we were left alone.

My hallucinations were less frequent now, and Schuldig and I were slowly falling into a comfortable lifestyle. We redecorated the whole townhouse in a style stolen from SoHo, and kept two bedrooms for when we had arguments. It was better that way, not having to sleep with him all the time. His snoring was getting louder with every passing day.

There was a new couch in our living room, bright red cotton fabric pressed against the sunshine yellow wall. Our kitchen was stainless steel. I kept all my knives in the pantry, the head tucked on the shelf by the sugar.

Schuldig's bedroom was bright red with white trim, almost a Neo-Rococo style with furniture so over the top that I started laughing whenever I saw it. I loathed his bedroom as much as he loathed mine. I'd done my walls up with flat black paint and thrown white and green paint on the walls for an abstract effect. The ceiling was still white, but spotted with green as well. I'd ripped the carpet out and acid-treated the floorboards, then painted them the same mossy green as what I'd used on the walls. All my furniture was simple, and my bed was a futon I'd dragged with me from Japan, pressed against the wall under a window. A wardrobe stood by my door, and the rest of the walls were lined with piles of books.

At first I'd been too lazy to put the shelves up and just piled them waist high around my bedroom, but now I liked it, so I left it. I was always buying books now, from every market I passed on Sundays when I went out shopping. A new cello occupied the only empty corner left, a black stool standing beside it. I'd started writing my own music and had even applied to the conservatory so I could play professionally, even if we didn't need the money.

Even if I couldn't play, they'd still pay me for my music. One of the teachers there had complimented my work so highly I'd flushed and stammered with embarrassment, bowing in thanks that would've come across fine in Japan, but really only made me look utterly absurd.

I'd gone back to my birth name. No one had questioned it since I'd changed my country of origin to Wales. A lie no one bothered to ask me about, even though my accent was so thickly and unmistakably Irish that they probably should have. Well, it was only on paper I was Welsh, but everyone I spoke to knew the truth and didn't care.

Schuldig had taken up piano and painting. He said he did it because he got bored too quickly, but I knew by the soft, private smile on his lips as he played that it was far more than that. I never mentioned it. I started composing duets so he and I could play together. His paintings were popular among the American art students that passed through Amsterdam, boys Schuldig usually brought home with him from coffee shops. He never slept with them, though I had said I didn't mind. His reply was a shrug as he played a soft sonata I'd been working on.

Life was pleasant. Life was routine. Nagi called us every Saturday at three our time. He said college was the greatest time of his life and that he'd visit us over summer break. His major was mathematics and he said he wanted to work for Nasa and invent the first hydrogen-powered car. Schu and I thought it was a little unlikely, but didn't tell him. He was too happy dreaming we didn't want to stomp on his ideas.

He had a girlfriend now, a New Yorker named Moira who was half-Japanese. He was so smitten with the girl he wanted to bring her with him when he visited us. Schu and I were apprehensive at first, but with enough pestering Nagi convinced us to say yes and talk to her. She was a pleasant-enough girl, and accepted our lie of being Nagi's foster parents readily enough. She didn't seem to care about a homosexual couple raising the boy…

It felt a little like we were living in that 'Birdcage' movie…

* * *

I was up late, punching the keys of the piano with annoyance. I was having trouble figuring out a part in my current piece. It could've been the hour, but I just couldn't think of the right ending for such a depressing bit of music.

Schuldig came out of his bedroom, a blue silk robe tied around his slender waist and slipping off his nude shoulder. The new Ragdoll kitten we'd affectionately named Crawfish for Crawford's memory in his arms, its bright yellow eyes addressing me as solemnly as its namesake as Schuldig moved toward me and leaned down to kiss my temple. His newly grown hair was to his shoulders, redder than a London double-decker bus. It brushed against my cheek as he moved, smelling like rain.

"Come to bed, Far. This will be here in the morning," he whispered in my ear. I smiled and turned to look at him, to kiss his thin, wide mouth. I got up to follow him.

Indeed, it would be there in the morning and every morning for the rest of my life…

* * *

_Fin The New Elders_

_Please Review_

* * *

**Author's Notes: **My dearest readers,

I am sad to say that this is the finale of the Birth of A Monster Arc. Besides some later reorganization, there will be no more continuations of this story. Really, I am happy it ended as it did. Secretly, through all my scheming, I wanted a happy ending. It was why I stopped writing a sixth chapter and left this as it was.

The end came at a good time, too, because I am having family reorganization issues in which I am forced to keep up the house, continue school and teach myself how to cook more than eggs and various version of toast. My mother would usually fill this spot, but she has other responsibilities, leaving these tasks to me. To continue writing on a full academic schedule, home keeping and extra study, I would be unable to really write up to my full potential. Certainly, this is not my last scrap of writing, for there will be others soon posted, simply the end of this story. I am sad to go, but as is commonly said, 'All good things must come to an end'.

I hope that you do indeed enjoy some other works of mine and wish you the best if you choose not to. I thank you yet again for the kindest reviews.

-Poco-poco

* * *

**To My Readers: **

**Rori Barton** I'd hoped you would enjoy the chapter. Thanks.

**TheInflictedFinger**Was Nagi supposed to show up insane? Did I say that? Golly, I hope not (laughs). More twists? Naw.

**StarTrekObsessed**Smut? I hope doesn't think so and boot me off. They're not to keen on it anymore. Diplomatic? (giggles) I like Cal best. He's the most…complex character. He's so messed up, I just have to love him.


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